


Between Breaths

by Kitannax



Series: Overwatch Fics [6]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, PWP, Smut, porn without plot/plot what plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 15:15:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7273264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitannax/pseuds/Kitannax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You/Reader have a surprisingly intimate encounter with the man that was once Gabriel Reyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Breaths

You're the only one he lets use his name. Everyone else - or at least, those who have guessed his identity - avoid it like the plague. He was always short tempered. Death hasn't exactly made it any better. When people do speak to him, they avoid a name. Or they use the one he's given himself. But to you, he's Gabriel. Only in the most intimate of moments does he permit any sort of pet name without some sort of accompanying sneer or cold remark in response. Like now, for instance. 

Your fingers trace a path up cool, dark, caramel colored skin. Gone are the days of your hesitance to touch him. He can hold a physical form for as long as he pleases, now. There's no need to rush anything. He loves to remind you of this fact. 

Cold, but still soft, plush lips land just below your earlobe. He's feeling sentimental today, it seems, as he kisses slowly, almost gently, across to your lips, pausing mere centimetres from you. 

"Gabe..." You practically whimper it at him. He rewards you with a low, rumbling laugh, his shaggy hair - actually, it's more fluffy than shaggy - tickling your face as he finally, finally captures your lips in a rough, heated kiss. He's been perfectly still inside you for so long, barely even moving his hips an inch. 

He likes to tease, to take his time and really draw out your need for him. You suppose not too many people have the insatiable lust for him that Gabriel Reyes had inspired in many women (and men) when he had been alive. 

"I can't hear you." His voice is still that deep, otherworldly rasp, even without his mask. It's less menacing when he's vulnerable like this with you. Sharp teeth nip at your lower lip playfully; he rolls his hips once and you moan near shamelessly. 

"Gabriel!" 

"Much better," he almost hums, "I do so miss that name..." 

You know he prefers only hearing it when you're moaning it, but you'll take it. Any moment where humanity shines through him, you hold onto. It gives you some sort of hope even where he insists there is none to be had. 

He pulls almost entirely out of you, plunging back into you hard and fast, not caring that your nails drag up his back deep enough to draw blood. If there's one thing you know about him, it's that Gabriel has a ridiculous pain tolerance level. 

His thrusts are increasingly brutal, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him in closer. You'll be aching later, but it's so worth it, so, so worth it. You force your eyes - squeezed, before now, closed shut in pleasure - open, meet his blood red gaze. His eyes were once the color of warm wood in autumn, a deep brown you could lose yourself in. But you've grown used to the red. Like it, even. 

Those same eyes are watching you, alive with amusement at your own pleasure, glittering the way they do only when he's inside you. His face may be deeply scarred, eyes frightening and his smile even more so, but he still bears some resemblance to the man who taught you how to fire a gun without flinching, how to kill an enemy without crying. He's still, you firmly believe, your Gabe. 

Sharp teeth - fangs, almost - graze your throat. He nips at the sensitive skin as he thrusts, dark locks of hair falling in his eyes as he increases his rhythm. You tangle your fingers in the mess that is his hair - you like this change, like the curls in contrast to the buzzcut he used to wear - tugging lightly. Those pointed teeth graze your lips as he kisses you roughly, one hand coming up to cup your face as he works you to your release. 

Your back arches up, your legs and inner walls tightening around him as you gasp a series of curses and moans, mostly impassioned calls of his name. 

"Oh my god, Gabriel!" You cry as you slowly, slowly work through a soul shattering climax. He chuckles quietly, his laughter very abruptly turning to a deep, growling moan as his own release hits him hard. The warmth of his cum filling you is a sweet contrast to his cold skin. He sighs contentedly, burying his face in your shoulder, breathing heavily. 

You make a noise somewhere between a satisfied sigh and a soft moan as you stroke his hair, exhausted. Dimly, you're aware of him shifting off of you, wrapping the blankets around you first before lying beside you. He always does this, afraid he'll make you too cold in the night. He wraps the top blanket around both of you before allowing you to nestle into him, your head on his chest. 

The last thing you're aware of is that deep, unearthly voice, softly singing some sort of Spanish lullaby.


End file.
